Natalie Merchant - Hunting the Wren Lyrics

Sharp is the windCold is the rainHarsh is the livelong dayUpon the wide open plainBy Donnelly's hollowUnder sod gorse and furzeThere lies a young wren ohBy the saints she was cursedThe wren is a small birdSo pretty she singsShe bested the eagleWhen she hid in its wingsWith sticks and with stonesAll among the small moundsThey come from all overTo hunt the wren on the wide open groundThey flock round the soldiersIn jackets so redFor barrack room favoursPennies and breadThe soldier is roughIn anger or funHe causes much bloodshedWith his big musket gunThe birds of the earthThe beasts of the fieldBy spite and by furyAre people revealedAttacked in the villageSpat on in townThey come from all overTo hunt the wren on the wide open groundThe wren is a small birdThough blamed for much woeHer form is deridedWherever she goesWith cold want and whiskeyShe soon is run downHer body paradedOn a staff through the townA rag for her ceilingThe sod was her floorShe chose the cold open plain o'erThe dark workhouse doorWith two broken wingsAnd feathers so brownThey come from all overTo hunt the wren on the wide open ground